


Did You See the Flares?

by TheAutotheist



Series: The Marks on Our Skin [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Sad, Sara Ships It, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAutotheist/pseuds/TheAutotheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only death could break a bond between two soulmates. At least, that was what Leonard thought before he and Mick had agreed to go on this mission with Rip Hunter and the rest of the Legends team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to When We Were Young. You might remember in the notes for that, I said I wrote it as the happier response to a very depressing soulmate AU one-shot I had done. Well, apparently I can't stay away form writing depressing stuff, especially when this show goes out of its way to hit you in the feels.

Leonard went out of his way to make sure no one knew he and Mick were soulmates. Of course everyone knew they were partners. He figured most people even knew they were sleeping together. But he had learned from a young age that love was a weakness you did not show people. He learned that from his father. And his father followed through by proving it to him on more than one occasion, using both Lisa and Mick against him repeatedly. So he felt no remorse when he shot a shard of ice through the bastard’s heart. Even though Scarlet sent him to Iron Heights before he had a chance to see his sister or Mick again.

Lisa was the one who called in that favor with Mardon, but Len didn’t want any part in the crazy scheme of his, especially after he brought in the Trickster. Just, no. He told himself that was why he warned the Flash, and that it had nothing to do with that ridiculous hope Barry had in him. 

After he did that, the first thing he did was go searching for Mick and Lisa. He had to check three safe houses before he found them. He was met with a gold gun and a heat gun in his face once he “let” himself in. It was so familiar, Len couldn’t help breaking out into a grin.

“Nice to see you, too,” he drawled. “Please tell me you did manage to get away with the score before we were rudely interrupted.”

“Oh my god, Lenny!” Lisa said. The gold gun clattered to the floor and she rushed over to him almost as fast as the Flash and wrapped her arms around him. “We heard about Mardon’s break-out, but we didn’t know where you went. I didn’t know he was going to break out Jesse too.”

“It’s okay,” he said. He hugged her back perhaps a bit more tightly than he would have otherwise. When he pulled back, he brushed her hair over her shoulder so he could look at her neck.

She winced, but she didn’t move away. “I’m okay. Cisco and his friends got it out.”

“Yes. Scarlet told me before he arrested me.” Len frowned. “Well, he told me you were safe, and I shot our bastard father in the chest.”

“Oh my god.” Lisa wrapped her arms around him again, only this time she held onto the back of his head with one hand and leaned up to wrap the other arm around his shoulders. “I can’t believe he’s dead. Lenny…”

“I know… He’s gone. He’s finally gone, Lis…” Len held her tightly and let himself bury his face in his hair. “You never need to worry about him again.”

Lisa started to shake, so Len squeezed her tighter until the tremors calmed down. She clutched his parka tightly, but finally pulled back so she could give him a vicious grin. “Thank you, Lenny.”

“Told you I would protect you from him.”

“You did. You did.”

She finally let him go and stepped back so Len could see Mick, who had been waiting patiently while the siblings had their reunion. Mick took a step forward and grabbed Len’s right arm with his left hand. He yanked Len towards him until he was close enough so he could wrap his other hand around the back of Len’s neck and kiss him filthily. Len may have melted into the kiss a bit.

When they pulled back, Mick growled, “Take this fucking thing off.” He started to push the parka off Len’s shoulders. Len knew what he wanted, so he carefully slipped out of his parka and tossed it onto the couch. Mick pushed up the sleeve of Len’s shirt so his forearm was bare.

Len turned his wrist over to reveal the underside, where his soulmark was imprinted over his pulsepoint. The small three-pointed flame, surrounded by a simple circle, seemed especially bright. Perhaps that was because he hadn’t connected with his soulmate in a few months. Mick rolled up the left sleeve of his own jacket and took Len’s arm again, this time a lot more gently. He squeezed Len’s forearm, and Len responded by wrapping his own fingers around Mick’s larger forearm.

Len let out a long breath when their soulmarks lined up. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against Mick’s neck and squeezed his arm tighter. Mick wrapped his other arm around Len’s waist and held him close.

“He deserved it…” Len whispered.

“I know,” Mick responded, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

“He deserved it,” Len repeated. “He had deserved it for over twenty years.”

“Longer. Since the first time he dared lay a hand on you.”

Len chuckled, but it sounded a little wet to his ears. “I know you wanted to burn him, but…”

“It was better that you were the one to do it in the end.”

Len nodded, and then finally pulled back. He kept their arms clasped together for another moment, and then finally let go. Before Mick could take his hand back, Len turned it over so he could see the simple six-pointed snowflake on the inside of his wrist that was the match to Len’s own soulmark. He gently ran the pads of his fingers over the mark and then let go of Mick’s wrist.

Lisa had retreated to another room to give them some privacy, but she came back out when they were done. “So what’s the plan now, Lenny?”

“Well…” he drawled out slowly as a smirk came to his face. “Our friend the Flash will be quite busy dealing with Mardon and Jesse. Which is the perfect time to steal something.”

 

He wasn’t a hero. And yet he still ended up on this “heroic” mission with Rip Hunter and the rest of the crew of the Waverider. And of course he dragged Mick along with him. When they started, he thought he would just get to steal a few baubles, and have a good laugh at the other supposed heroes. 

But then the first mission took them to 1975 and he realized it was only days before his father was going to attempt his first very botched heist. He didn’t tell Mick his real plan when they convinced the kid to take them to Central City. While Mick didn’t try to stop him, he clearly wasn’t happy about it. Even though he knew he could have completely changed the events that lead to him and Mick meeting, he still couldn’t help the desire to try to make his and Lisa’s lives better.

Everything went downhill from there.

Which was how he found himself staring Mick down in some dark forest, with his cold gun charged and raised. And Mick looked at him like he believed Len was actually going to kill him, like he actually  _ could _ kill him. After everything they’d been through. So he knocked him out, again. And left him behind. Because this was all a mistake, but they had to complete the mission, and then he would go back for Mick.

As he walked back up the ramp onto the ship, he rubbed his hand across his face, and then dropped it to see Sara standing there with her arms crossed and her stance defensive and wide. She was still in the same clothes from earlier and her shirt sleeve was ripped to make room for the bandage where Mick had burned her.

Len didn’t do guilt and yet he felt a twinge of guilt seeing the injury. It felt entirely misplaced considering Sara could take care of herself, and what he’d just done to Mick. He looked at her for a moment and then he started to walk by her.

“Leonard,” she said calmly, but with a sharp edge to her voice. “What did you do?”

“I did what I said I would do,” he replied as he stopped in the doorway with his back to her. “I took care of it.”

He heard Sara shift like she was turning to look at him. “I don’t believe you. I don’t think you would have done that to your  _ soulmate _ .”

Len frowned and rested his hand on the butt of his cold gun. It was a stance that calmed him and reminded him of the power he carried strapped to his leg. “Well then you don’t know me very well.”

“Show me your arm,” she instructed as she walked over to him. “Prove it to me. If you really  _ killed _ Mick, your soulmark will start fading.”

Len turned to glare down at her. “You saw it the first time on accident because it looked like we were going to freeze to death. That doesn’t mean you get a free pass to see my soulmark or talk about  _ my  _ soul bond.”

Sara’s stance was still strong. She looked up at him with determination. “Thought so.” She stepped up the few steps so she was right up in his face, even though she was nearly a head shorter than him. “At some point, you are going to have to be honest with someone instead of lying to everyone.”

Len smirked. “Don’t you remember? I’m a liar and thief. That’s what I do, and that’s not changing.”

“Right. Well, if you want to talk about what happened, you know where I’ll be.” She brushed past him and walked towards her room.

Leonard watched her until she disappeared, and then he raised his left hand so he could use his teeth to pull off his glove. And then he slipped his fingers into the right sleeve of his jacket so he could press them against his soulmark. The sympathetic thrum was still there, but the pulse was so much weaker than when Mick was around. Len didn’t look too much into what that meant.


	2. Chapter 2

He should have seen it coming. That was what Len kept telling himself later as he sat on Chronos’s timeship, alone. He should have seen it coming. On that next mission, he would seclude himself and press his fingers into his soulmark, but each time he did it, it felt more and more like he was just touching tattooed skin. The mark hadn’t started to fade, he’d made sure. So Mick wasn’t dead. But that meant he had no explanation for why he felt nothing from his soulmark. That was, until Chronos pulled off his helmet and it was  _ Mick _ .

At first, Len could only stare, and then he was shouting. It was quite a role reversal, he was the one who was losing it while Mick looked at him calmly. 

“I think I deserve to know what  _ the hell _ is going on here!” he yelled as he fought against the cuffs hard enough to make the rail rattle.

Mick didn’t move, and he didn’t raise his voice as he said, “You deserve nothing.”

“Says the man who sold us out to the pirates!” Len spat back at him. It was a weak excuse, and it sounded so to his ears, but it was the first thing he could think of. Mick had offered him an out, together, but instead he’d chosen the team over his own soulmate. “When I dropped you off in that forest, I was supposed to kill you. That  _ was _ the plan.”

“You should have stuck with the plan,” Mick said, with no emotion. “And done me a favor.”

“I may not have trusted you on the ship with the team,” Len said slowly. For once, he dropped his sarcastic drawl. He had to make Mick understand this. “But I always,  _ always _ was coming back for you.” Len stared up at him and found he was breathing hard. He had to understand. They were soulmates. There was no way Len was going to just leave Mick behind like that, not after everything.

But Mick didn’t understand. He watched Len like he was watching the news, a report on someone else’s life. The divide between them never felt larger. He tilted his head as he continued to stare at Len with cold, passionless eyes. 

“Seems like one of us lost track of time.” His gaze drifted off Len’s face, like he was remembering something.

“Well, how long did you…” Len started to ask pathetically.

“By the time they found me,” Mick yelled, finally snapping in anger as Len expected, even though it had none of the usual fire, “I’d nearly lost my mind. I was so weak, I was strangling rats to survive.”

Len leaned back slightly. He knew where this was going, but he asked anyway. “When  _ who _ found you?”

Mick looked down before answering. “The Time Masters.” 

Len was only able to regain some of his composure when Mick stood up and turned away from him to explain what the Time Masters had done to him. Honestly, Len barely heard any of what Mick was telling him about this Vanishing Point and being reborn. It sounded like religious bullshit of the worst kind. He was too busy trying to think of a way out of this situation.

“And, uh, when exactly did your new friends give you the, uh,  _ lobotomy _ ?” he snarked between clenched teeth.

Mick turned to look at him again and then he moved back around the console so he could stand in front of Len again. “You think that’s what they did to me?” He twisted off one of his metal gloves and set it on the console, and then he carefully and meticulously rolled up the sleeve of the black shirt he wore under the armor. He never took his eyes off Len’s face as he did this.

Mick knelt down in front of Len again. He turned over the bare hand so Len could see his palm. With a sick realization, Len discovered it was his left hand. It was his left hand, and there was nothing on his inner wrist. There was no mark, no dark lines. No snowflake.

Len’s breath caught in his throat and he had to fight back the sudden feeling of tears. He didn’t cry. He never cried, not even when his father had done all those awful things. Not even when he had to leave Mick behind. But this made him feel so raw. It felt like someone had taken gravity and suddenly made it pull towards the ceiling so everything was upside down. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t  _ think _ .

“No,” he choked out. “No, that’s not possible. There is no way to remove a soulmark!” he shouted up at Mick.

Mick just watched him. “Among the many amazing things the Time Masters can do, one of them is remove an unwanted soulmark.”

Len got stuck on the word  _ unwanted _ , before he realized just what Mick implied. “That’s… that’s insane. You can’t just break a soul bond like that.”

“Bonds are only a weakness. The Time Masters understand that.”

“No, Mick, listen to me…” Len said weakly. He felt like he was going to be sick. Would he even be there right now if he didn’t have his bond with Mick? Sure, they’d had their ups and downs. And there were moments where things got really bad. But he never,  _ never _ wanted to lose his soulmark. He couldn’t lose his soulmate. “It can’t just be… gone.”

“That is what you did to me, Snart. When you left me for dead.” 

Every word that he said was like a knife in Len’s chest. He was finding it hard to draw in breath. “No, no, Mick…”

“Honestly, I’m glad it’s gone. There’s a reason I’m one of the Time Masters’ best bounty hunters. You can do anything without any bonds or connections. Being connected to you only dragged me down my whole life, and kept me in your shadow, like a dog.”

“You know I never thought of you that way…” Len said weakly. 

“It doesn’t matter. You let everyone else think that.”

“Mick…” Len tried one last time, but they were interrupted by his ship’s computer.

He should have seen it coming.

Len curled in on himself once Mick was gone. He heard the sound of the hydraulics moving the hull door back into place, which meant he was really alone. And right then, he didn’t care if Mick’s ship’s computer was recording him. He leaned over and screamed as loudly as he could, because it was better than crying. He tried to put every emotion he hadn’t tried to show during that conversation into the ear-shattering noise coming out of his throat. He wanted to scream until his throat was so raw that he wouldn’t be able to speak. He let his forehead drop down to his knees and stayed like for a few seconds. 

_ “You wouldn’t… by any chance… happen to have suddenly manifested your… soulmark?” _

_ “What’s it to you?” _

_ “Before that fight, I didn’t have a mark. After, I had this. So I came to ask if the same happened to you.” _

_ “Looks like a flame,” _

_ “It’s a snowflake,” _

_ “I’m Leonard Snart, by the way.” _

_ “Mick Rory. Guess this makes us…” _

_ “Soulmates? Who’d’ve thought we’d meet in juvie, of all places.” _

Len looked over at his hands, which were still cuffed to the rail. Carefully, he maneuvered his hands so he could slide the cuff just far enough up his arm that he could see the inside of his right wrist. The mark was still there, the black lines as dark as ever. The flame barely contained by its circle. But he felt nothing from it. It was no better than a tattoo. It felt like he’d lost his soulmate. He  _ had _ lost his soulmate.

So he pushed himself to his feet and slid the cuffs along the rail until he came to the first joint that connected it to the wall. He put all the anger and pain he felt into ramming the connecter of the cuffs into the joint until it broke it. After that, the second one was much easier to break. As he had hoped, he found his cold gun with the rest of Mick’s arsenal along the back wall. Thank goodness for his long legs and his flexibility. That was how he was able to knock the cold gun off the rack and drag it over with his boot.

While he might be able to break the rail and get himself out, he wouldn’t be able to get out of those cuffs. The stupid Time Masters technology was resistant to the subzero temperatures his cold gun could achieve. And if he couldn’t break the cuffs, the only way to get them off was to do something to his hand. 

Len looked down at his two hands. Everything he did used his hands. He would be completely useless if he lost his hand. That was the reason the old punishment for thieves was to cut off the offending hand. But if he didn’t get out of there, Mick would either kill one of his teammates, or, more likely, they would kill him without even realizing who he was. His right hand was closer to the gun. But he could have moved the gun to shoot his left one, if he’d wanted to.

He looked down at his soulmark, his useless soulmark, once more. The bond was already broken. He didn’t want to keep the painful reminder that he’d lost Mick, that he’d driven him to this. So he positioned the gun so he had a clear shot at his right hand.

He now had a lot of sympathy for Barry. It was not pleasant to be hit with a blast from his cold gun, by any means. Though it did go from cold to pain to numb rather quickly. But, really, the truly painful part was when he shattered his right hand against the floor. Len thought he blacked out for a second there. But when he came to and saw the frostbitten and blacked stump where his right hand and wrist used to be, his head suddenly felt clearer.

He knew how to work around physical pain. He’d done it many times before. Perhaps that pure physical pain pushed everything else out. He didn’t feel as distraught as he had a moment ago, but he knew he had to go save the team from Mick, or Mick from the team.

That was all he thought about as he got himself off the ship and to where the show down was happening. The pain in his hand was a constant, but it didn’t beat out the sight of Mick lying on the stone floor, unconscious, after Sara kicked him in the face.

He stayed against the back wall while the others crowded around the glass wall of Mick’s prison on the Waverider, looking at him like an animal in a cage. While they talked about potentially reforming him, Len clutched his blackened stump to his chest and thought about the frostbite. While he’d shattered his hand, the frostbite clearly extended up the stump. He was going to have to get more of the stump amputated, but hopefully it wouldn’t be all the way up to the elbow. He was going to have to learn how to do things with one hand. He was fairly certain he could manage the cold gun with one hand, though he was going to have to re-learn how to do it with his non-dominant left hand. Things like lock-picking were going to be much harder, but Len was certain he could make it work. He did have very dexterous fingers, after all.

He kept his arm cradled to his chest and only let his eyes drift over Mick’s form, where he sat on the bench against the back wall of his cell, once. He didn’t look back as he left the room.

“Leonard…” Sara said quietly from behind him. He half turned to look at her and saw Rip behind her.

“Mr. Snart, a moment, please,” Rip said. He stepped around Sara and started to lead the way to the infirmary. “We have a device on board that can fix your injury.”

“Fix?” Len asked suspiciously. That wasn’t a word he generally trusted. People who claimed to be able to “fix you” usually had ulterior motives.

But in this case, Rip really did mean “fix.” Turned out he had a machine that could regrow limbs. Nifty little tool. Len wondered if he would’ve come to his decision differently if he’d known Rip had this device. Probably not.

Let kept his arm turned palm-down while the device did its thing. He only gave one half-hearted “ow” that he didn’t really feel. Rip smirked and actually laughed when it worked. Len flexed and wiggled his fingers, but didn’t move his hand until Rip moved to leave.

“Thank you, Gideon,” Rip said. “Mr. Snart, please refrain from freezing off any more limbs in the future.”

Len reached out and ran his fingertips over the back of his “new” hand. “I will do my best,” he said with his most put-upon drawl.

“Good.” He left the room with a swish of his long coat.

Len waited until the door slid closed behind him and then he carefully turned his hand over on the table top. This hand was almost identical to the one he had shattered. It was made from his own cells, after all. It was missing the blemishes and scars he had acquired throughout his more than four decades alive, but considering the worst of his scars weren’t on his hands, it wasn’t that noticeable. The one thing Rip’s fancy machine couldn’t bring back, that it couldn’t recreate, was his soulmark. 

He gently ran his fingers over the inside of his wrist. He could see the various blue veins under his skin that branched up into his hand. He hadn’t seen those in a while, considering they’d been covered by his soulmark for nearly thirty years. He continued to stroke his wrist with his thumb, like he was massaging away an ache.

Len thought he would feel something else. But he felt nothing. Honestly, he felt kind of empty, but also kind of free. Was this the burden-less feeling Mick had described?

Len frowned down at his hand and stretched it out to flex his fingers again. He did miss it. He remembered the good moments, and they were  _ good _ . Nothing compared to connecting with your soulmate. But it felt like trying to remember something from a dream. It felt slightly unreal. He could remember having the feelings, but he couldn’t recapture them. It was alignment. It was perfection, and balance. He remembered that it was supposed to feel like that.

He pushed himself to his feet and continued to examine his hand. It didn’t really make sense. How could people like him and Mick possibly have anything close to balance and perfection? They were criminals. They were scarred and damaged and bad. Who knows? Maybe it had been fake all along.

Len was surprised to see Sara standing in front of the door with her arms crossed when it opened. He still had the fingers of his left hand loosely circled around his right wrist. Her eyes immediately dropped to it. There was a brief flare of surprise, then she shot her hand out and snagged his arm. The jacket sleeve was still pushed up to his elbow. So it wasn’t hard for her to see there was nothing on his wrist.

She made a choking sound and cradled his hand like it was her own soulmark she had lost. Len yanked his hand back rather forcefully. The only reason he hadn’t lashed out at her, as he would have if anyone else had touched him without permission, was because he knew she would kick his ass.

“Turns out, all you have to do to get rid of a soulmark is remove the body part it is imprinted upon,” he drawled.

Sara looked up and met his eyes. He was surprised to see actual, real pain there. “Leonard…” she said slowly. “I am so sorry.”

There were many things Len hated. At the top of that list were being touched, and receiving  _ pity _ . He sneered and waved his hand. “Seems appropriate. People like Mick and me don’t deserve things like soulmarks, after all. It’s just the universe setting things right.”

Sara gaped at him. “Don’t you… God, Snart, don’t you ever feel  _ anything _ ?”

Len frowned. “Of course. It hurt like a son of a bitch to freeze and shatter my own hand, after all.”

“Your soulmark, your  _ bond _ ! You should be… To lose something like that… When I came back and realized my soulmark hadn’t been brought back to life with me, I was…” She looked away and crossed her arms again.

Len shifted his stance to rest his weight on his right leg. When Sara had discovered his soulmark, she had told him about how she had been brought back to life. She’d had a soulmark, and a soulmate, who wasn’t dead. But the soulmark hadn’t reappeared after her revival.

“Okay. But why should you care about my soulmark?”

“Because I need proof it works!” She turned to glare up at him again. “I need proof it doesn’t go to shit every single time! Kendra and Carter, Ray’s fiancée, my parents, even fucking Rip! He’s trying to get his soulmate back before his soulmark fades, and he’s trying to fight against time and the universe itself. Most times it looks like he doesn’t stand a chance. So I thought you and Mick were going to be the proof that even in the most unlikely places, it could work!”

Len looked down at her coldly. “We are killers, Sara. I’m a thief. We’re not heroes. We don’t deserve to love. If you were looking for proof of anything, that’s what you’ve found.” He brushed past her roughly. “I’m the last person you want to try to live vicariously through. Trust me. You think your few years of assassin-training and bloodlust are bad? I have forty-three years of destructive baggage.” He sneered at her over his shoulder. “You have nothing on me.” He turned back around and marched back to his room, leaving Sara standing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD.
> 
> I felt like the logical thing to happen with the events of Legends in this universe is for them to lose their soulmarks. Sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

Mick was bored of everyone parading into his cell to talk. The kid had tried to convince him to rejoin the team, so had Haircut. He just stared at them until they left. Even Rip fucking Hunter had made his pitch. Though the worst was definitely Sara.

He heard the door hiss open and he glanced over to see Sara walk in wearing some weird colorless getup. “Ah, finally. Someone willing to do a man’s job,” he said as she walked around the glass cell.

“Not why I’m here.” She shrugged and kept walking so she could stand in front of the cell doors.

“It’s almost funny how you guys keep parading in here like it’s some kind of confessional or something.” He smirked, trying to get to her before she started talking about something pointless.

Sara just quirked the corner of her mouth and pointed at him. “That’s also not why I’m here.”

“Okay,” Mick said in surprise. He leaned back against the wall. “I’ll bite.”

“Everybody’s out there arguing about whether or not we should kill this kid because no one thinks he can change.” About three words into that, Mick had already lost interest. So he frowned and looked up at her, willing her to get to her point. “Which made me think of you.” She settled against the wall directly on the other side of the glass from him. It was the closest anyone had bothered to get.

Mick rolled his eyes and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees again. So it was another confessional, just dressed up as something else.

“You know, no one thinks you can change. That’s why you’re in here.”

“The only reason I’m in here,” Mick said in a low, dangerous voice as he leaned close to the glass, “is if I get out, I’m gonna give Snart some payback he’s not walking away from.”

Anyone else might have been intimidated, but Sara looked extremely unimpressed. She even rolled her eyes a bit. “He saved your life,” she reminded him.

“He wussed out on killing me,” he said quickly, to cut her off. He was letting his anger get the better of him again. Something the Time Masters had worked very hard to beat out of him. “Not the same thing! He marooned me.”

“It’s not like he had many choices,” she said softly. She glanced away, but not because she was afraid of him. It was more like she was lost in thought. “You know, while you were busy selling us out to a homicidal time pirate, Leonard and I almost died.”

Mick narrowed his eyes as he watched her. He didn’t know that. He hadn’t had the time to learn that before Snart had taken him to that forest to be put down like a dog. Besides, he’d long since stopped caring if Snart lived or died. That had probably happened the same time the Time Masters had burned his soulmark off his arm.

“He was thinking about you.” She rolled her arm over on her knee and looked away from him so she could look at the inside of her right wrist. It was the spot where Len’s soulmark was. Mick never forgot that, even when he no longer had his own. “I saw his soulmark. He told me how you two met. He told me about your partnership, both criminal and otherwise.”

That wasn’t his right. She was an outsider, and she didn’t deserve to know their story. Mick found himself becoming irrationally angry at Len, but not by way of the revenge that had kept him going all this time. It was a possessive kind of anger.

Instead of responding to that, he rolled his eyes at Sara. “Did it make you weepy? Do you think it’s going to make me weepy?”

Sara looked at him for a moment and then let her eyes drop. She was disappointed. He could read it in the lines of her body. If she thought she could convince him to not want to take revenge on Snart just by talking about how they’d met, and how they’d gotten their soulmarks, she was very wrong.

“He’s your friend. Your lover. Your soulmate.” She looked away. “Or he was.”

Mick narrowed his eyes again. “What do you mean?”

Sara looked back at him. She didn’t look scared, or hopeful. She just looked sad, like the fight had temporarily gone out of her. For someone who struggled with bloodlust, it was a bizarre expression to see on her face. “He froze off his hand so he could get to you. If you didn’t notice.”

“I noticed.” Bastard was crafty like that. He hated being restrained, which was one reason Mick had done it. But even he hadn’t expected Snart to go to such an extreme.

“When Rip used his toy to regrow Leonard’s hand, his soulmark didn’t come back.” She looked back at him. “Just made it more obvious how much you two need each other.”

“Well let me out of here, and I’ll go work it out with him.” He smirked at her.

She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “Right…”

As she turned to head out the opposite door, he said, “Oh,” which made her turn around to see what he had to say. “Killing a kid. Not very hero-like.” See? He did pay attention.

Sara looked at him for a moment. “Well, as you two constantly say, we’re not heroes.” She turned and the door slid open for her. She left without saying anything else.

 

The stream of people was annoying. He could ignore the confessors and the people pleading for him to join their side again. But Sara’s words had made him think. He hated thinking. Thinking only lead to destructive behavior. The Time Masters had beaten the desire to think for himself out of him. And Snart had always been the one with the plan.

Honestly, Mick was surprised Len had removed his soulmark. It wasn’t an accident either. Asshole was right-handed, so it didn’t make any sense for him to freeze off his dominant hand, unless he was trying to get rid of his soulmark too.

_ “No, no, no. Don’t do this to me, Lenny. Come on, Len. Come on,” _

“Shut up,” he said to no one. He didn’t want to think back to that night.

_ “He saw my soulmark, and that’s why he… If he did something… I just need to see it.” _

_ “It’s okay, Len. Your soulmark’s still there. See, mine is perfectly intact. If something had happened to yours, it woulda happened to mine too.” _

Mick sighed and ran his hands over the top of his head. They were stupid and young. That was back when they were the most important things in each other’s lives. But that had never really been true. Even with the fucking soulmarks, Lisa was always more important to Len. And Mick was in love with the fire. It was that stupid protective streak of Len’s— _ Snart’s _ , whatever—that let him be talked into being a “good person” by the Flash. It was the fire that had almost killed their relationship once. Because Mick gave in, and Snart left him behind. When he saw that glorious burning city in 2046, he chose it over his partner. And his partner chose to be a hero over standing at his side.

The Time Masters had only made it formal. They’d been broken for a long time. Should've known from the beginning. That’s what meeting your soulmate in juvie got ya. 

The door hissed open once more and the last person Mick expected to see walked through it. He straightened up and watched as Snart walked around the cell until he stood in front of the door. He stopped stiffly and pointedly turned to face Mick with his arms crossed.

They stared each other down for a moment, neither willing to break the silence. Finally, Mick asked, “What do you want?” If Snart was going to try to play some mind game on him, and talk around the reason for being there, then Mick was going to cut to the chase.

Len—Snart—was normally very graceful in his movement, but he was stiff and rigid and held himself like he was protecting himself from the world. Mick remembered seeing him like that after run-ins with his father. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was on the same level as Lewis now to Snart.

“People seem to think we should have a heart to heart.”

Mick almost laughed. But it would have been cold and unpleasant to hear. “We don’t have hearts. Where does that leave us?”

Snart ignored the comment. “I’ve got a dozen reasons for killing you. You’ve got a dozen and one for killing me.” That was a lie, and they both knew it. Mick wanted revenge for one very specific reason. And Len—fuck,  _ Snart _ , why did he keep doing that?—had never wanted Mick dead. He just wanted to keep him where he could control him, under heel. “So.”

“All the talk in the world’s not gonna change a thing.” Mick glared across at his ex-soulmate. He remembered when he’d used to feel pulled to this man, which was probably why it’d been so easy for Snart to control him.

“Exactly,” Snart said simply, as if he’d expected that response. “Here’s my proposal. I open this cell. We let our fists do the talking.” He stood silent, waiting for Mick’s answer.

Mick titled his head slightly and carefully got to his feet. Snart’s eyes tracked his movements as he walked up to the glass. What the hell was Snart thinking? It wasn’t that Mick was necessarily against the concept. But even Snart couldn’t be delusional enough to think he would win in a fistfight against Mick. He could fight, Mick gave him that. But he could never beat Mick. Mick had only continued to get bigger and meaner as he’d aged, and he could probably kick his own twenty-year-old self’s ass. Whereas Len had lost a significant amount of his agility since he was in his prime. And he’d never particularly been good in fistfights. 

“When I kill you?” Mick grunted.

Snart didn’t contradict the when vs. if, which was telling in an of itself. “You take the jumpship. Make your escape. Live out the rest of your life anywhere you like.” He shrugged. It was fake. Mick had spent thirty years with the man. He knew the masks and his acts. Whenever he was putting on nonchalance, or acting like he couldn’t care less, it was always a cover for some deep pain that he could not possibly deal with. He liked poking fun at the things he really didn’t care about one way or the other, playing devil’s advocate. So if he was pretending not to care, that meant this mattered a great deal to him.

Mick didn’t call him on it. He grunted like he was considering the tempting offer. “And if you kill me?” He looked around the cell. “Well, it’s better than being locked up in this place.” He turned to glare at Snart again. “Like some kind of circus freak.”

Snart looked at him coldly. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, like he was trying to hold himself together. Without his usual drawl, he said, “I take that as a yes.”

Mick smirked with his teeth. “Sound the bell,” he said. This was the last thing he wanted. No, he wanted Snart dead. He’d been doing this for revenge. But he didn’t want… this. He didn’t want Snart to just offer himself up like this.

Though it certainly didn’t feel like he was offering himself up for the slaughter when he managed to punch Mick in the face. He definitely put everything he had into the hit. But it was nowhere near enough. They both knew it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even enough to convince Mick that Len hadn’t walked in there to die. That didn’t mean he stopped beating him.

He kept punching Len in the face until he knocked him off his feet. And before Len had a chance to push himself up, Mick grabbed his jacket and slammed his back to the floor. He used the hand holding his jacket to pin him down while he raised his fist. From this angle, this long into the fight, it wouldn’t be hard to end it here. One hard jab to the face could break Len’s skull into his brain, and put him down.

Len didn’t try to defend himself. His face was covered with bruises, his nose and lip were bloody. He just stared up at Mick, waiting for that final blow. And all Mick saw was the stupid kid he’d saved in juvie. The loud-mouthed idiot who was going to get the whole place locked down. The shrimpy kid who was too pretty to get through a place like that unscathed. The kid who’d walked into his cell later and made him feel peaceful in a way he’d never felt before just by holding onto his arm. That was the guy he’d thought he’d follow to the ends of the earth. Well, where were they now?

Mick lowered his arm and dropped to the ground beside Len. He leaned on his hand and looked away. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill Len.

Len closed his eyes and sighed, but not in relief. It was more like resignation, or disappointment. “We had a deal, Mick,” he said, in an attempt as his usual drawl. The drawl dropped, however, when he continued with, “Kill me and you walk.” He didn’t get up off the floor or move. Mick wasn’t even sure he could move with those injuries.

Mick sat up and rested his left arm on his knee, but he wouldn’t look down at Len’s face.

“It’s what you wanted,” Len said pathetically, in barely a whisper. It sounded like he couldn’t understand why Mick  _ wouldn’t _ kill him. Like that was all he wanted. “Isn’t it? To get off the team?”

Mick turned away and looked down. It wasn’t about the team. It was never about the team, and that was the whole point. That was what Len didn’t understand. Mick had only tried to do what he thought would be best for the two of them, not for the team.

“I don’t know what I want anymore.” He glanced down at Len again. “Truth is, it doesn't matter.”

“What are you talking about?” Len whispered. He was probably fighting just to stay conscious.

“Whether I stay or leave, I’m dead.” Mick looked down at him again. “We’re all dead.” He sighed. “I’ve… got something to tell the team. That I’ve put off saying.” He gazed at Len for a moment, and then knelt beside him. “Come on.” He grabbed Len’s arm and carefully helped him to his feet. To Mick’s surprise, Len didn’t resist at all. He just clutched his side while Mick lead them to the bridge.

“What the hell is this?” Rip asked in shock as they entered.

“Shut it. I’ve got something to say.” Mick carefully helped Len lean against the wall. He was as gentle as he could be, but Len still winced until he had himself settled in a position that was semi-comfortable.

“Oh my god, what did you do to him?” Kendra asked. She took a step towards him, but at the glare Len gave her, she backed off back to Haircut’s side.

Sara gave Len one worried look and then turned her attention to Mick. She was trained to keep her eyes on the threat in the room, not to help the weak.

“Tell them what you told me, Mick,” Len commanded, though everyone could hear how strained it was.

So Mick repeated what he’d said in the cell, and then he explained about the Hunters. When he’d said his piece, he let the captain worry about what their next move would be and walked back over to his partner.

“And for goodness sake, take Mr. Snart to the infirmary!” Hunter snapped at them.

It wasn’t like Mick needed the order. He’d already been planning to do that. Again, Len didn’t resist when he moved to his side and took one arm to sling it over his shoulders. It was also highly possible he did not have the energy to resist. Mick didn’t see Sara approach, but she silently took Len’s other arm and helped support his weight so they could make their way to the infirmary.

Len cried out in pain when they had to move him onto the chair in the infirmary. His hands clutched at his side again, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Gideon,” Mick said quickly.

“I have administered pain killers and am performing a scan to establish the extent of Mr. Snart’s injuries,” Gideon’s voice informed them.

Sara lingered on the periphery while Mick kept his hand on the chair next to Len’s shoulder. “Pain killers are muchly appreciated.” Len missed drawl and went straight to slur.

“Shall I also administer a sedative?”

“No sedatives,” Len said quickly.

“Mr. Snart, might I recommend—”

“No sedatives,” Len said firmly.

“Do what he says, Gideon,” Mick said. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sara glance at him.

“I have finished my preliminary scan. Mr. Snart suffers from three cracked ribs, facial contusions, a zygomatic fracture, and a possible concussion.”

Len chuckled. “Oh, is that all? I’ve had worse.”

Mick looked down at him. He opened his mouth without thinking and almost said something. But he stopped himself at the last second. He snapped his mouth closed.

“I have also discovered hairline fractures and bruising on Mr. Rory’s knuckles.”

Mick lifted his right hand to look at his bruised knuckles. Wasn’t any worse than any other fistfight he’d been in. It’d heal on its own. “Leave it. What can you do about L—Snart?” Sara narrowed her eyes at him. She’d caught his little slip-up.

“I am already setting and treating the fractures. After, I can treat the bruises.”

“Leave ‘em,” Len said quietly. “They’re just bruises. Hiding that you lost a fight is just cowardly.”

“Now, Mr. Snart...”

“Gideon.”

Gideon sounded very put upon, and very much like their dear captain, when she said, “Very well. Someone will need to monitor you for the concussion tonight, as well.”

“I’ll do it.” Both Sara and Len looked at Mick in surprise.

“Why?” Sara asked suspiciously. “You’re the one who did this to him.”

Len didn’t say anything, he just looked at him curiously. Mick didn’t look at Sara, and instead kept his eyes locked on Len’s as he said, “I know. That’s why it’s my responsibility. Besides, I know what I’m looking for.”

“It’s okay…” Len said quietly to forestall whatever argument Sara was going to make. “If he really wanted me dead, he had his chance.”

That sent a shard of ice right into Mick’s heart and he almost gasped at the pain. It was metaphorical, but he imagined he knew what Lewis felt right before he died. That was twice now in this day that he had compared himself to Len’s bastard father. A man that he, himself, had wanted to kill.

Mick absent-mindedly started scratching at his right wrist as he continued to look down at Len. Len let his eyes drift closed again as the painkillers and whatever Gideon was doing started to take effect.

“Will he have to stay here tonight for that?”

“No, Mr. Snart will be able to return to his room after I treat his injuries.”

“Good,” Mick said. He winced when he accidentally stretched the skin over his bruised knuckles, but then maneuvered his hand to better scratch around his wrist.

“What are you doing?” Sara asked. 

Mick turned to look at her and he saw she was looking at his hands. He followed her gaze and saw he was scratching insistently at his right wrist. Wait, he remembered these symptoms. It had been a long time, but he remembered these symptoms. Slowly, he pulled back the sleeve of his shirt so he could see the skin he’d been scratching.

Even expecting it, Mick was completely surprised and felt his breath leave his body in one low whoosh. On the inside of his right wrist was a new soulmark, a new snowflake. It was clearly similar to the snowflake he had previously sported, but this one had eight spokes, instead of six, and sharper points that broke through the circle that surrounded it. Mick touched the mark gently with his thumb and then looked down at Len. Oh, that was why. Just like before, they hadn’t even noticed when it happened because they’d been too busy fighting.

Mick reached out and carefully rolled Len’s arm over so his palm was facing up and shoved his sleeve up his arm. 

“What’re you doing…” Len slurred without opening his eyes, or trying to stop Mick. Sara came to stand beside the chair at Mick’s side so she could see.

Mick stared down at Len’s arm. “I don’t understand… How can it not be here?”

They both looked at Len’s arm, and could clearly see no new mark had appeared on his right wrist. Sara frowned. “Maybe it’s the hand, since Rip had to regrow it…”

“What’re you two talking ‘bout?” Len asked.

“This doesn’t make sense. Marks don’t appear by themselves. It’s always together. One person can’t just get a soulmark.”

Sara looked up at him. “Mick…”

“I don’t get it…” he whispered. His hand was still on Len’s arm. It wasn’t Rip’s machine. Something was wrong. He looked back down at his own new mark again. That was when he noticed it was on his right wrist. He’d gone so long without his old mark that he’d almost forgotten it used to be on his left wrist.

He moved around the chair quickly and shoved up Len’s other sleeve. He pressed the back of Len’s hand down to the chair so he could see his wrist. And right there, over his pulsepoint, was one large flame, that danced completely outside its circle so it almost looked like the circle was inside the fire instead of the other way around.

Mick let the grin come to his face. He stood by Len’s side and slid his right hand over Len’s palm so he could lace their fingers together, and then he pressed their wrists together.

Len’s eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at Mick, and then he looked down at their joined hands. He squeezed Mick’s hand tighter, which put painful pressure on his bruised knuckles, those very knuckles that had been beating into Len’s face less than an hour ago. But Mick didn’t care. He relished the pain. Because it was nothing to the crystal clear alignment seeping from his wrist all the way through his body, even better than he’d ever remembered it being. Their previous bond almost seemed stale in comparison when he thought back to how they used to do this.

“Oh my god…” Sara whispered. She had both hands up over her mouth as she watched them. “You got them back…”

“Not back,” Mick said. “These are different.”

“Really? Let me see.” Len pushed him back slightly so he could sit up with a wince and examine the new soulmark on his wrist. And then he took Mick’s arm to look at his mark. “Well, they’re on the opposite sides, for one.”

“So they’re… new soulmarks?” Sara asked, confusion clear in her voice. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to lose your soulmark in the first place,” Len said. He moved so he could drop one leg over the side of the chair. He looked up at Mick and met his eyes. “I… Mick… I’m sorry that I didn’t go back for you…”

Mick grunted. “Was my own fault. I caused it to never happen by going after you guys now.”

“I still left you behind…”

“And I probably deserved that.” Mick paused. “Sorry for turning against the team, making you choose.”

“Should’ve chosen you.”

Behind him, Sara cleared her throat. Len just smirked at that, but didn’t say anything else. He winced when the action pulled on the bruises on his face.

Mick slid his fingers over Len’s new soulmark again and grasped his forearm to line both theirs up, and then moved his other hand to the back of Len’s head so he could tilt it back and kiss him, even with their audience.

Sara whistled and clapped her hands together. Mick felt Len chuckle slightly, but then he parted his lips and let Mick slip his tongue in his mouth. They especially ignored their audience as the kiss became anything but chaste.

Actually, it wasn’t Sara who interrupted them.

“Mr. Rory. Might I remind you that Mr. Snart is possibly concussed and needs rest.”

Mick groaned and moved his hand to the side of Len’s neck so he could pull back to lean his forehead against Len’s. “Shut up, Metal Mouth.”

“The treatment is complete. You may now move Mr. Snart to his room. Though I would recommend refraining from any… strenuous activities.”

That made Sara laugh.

“Don’t worry, Gideon.” Len smirked up at Mick. “We know better than that.”

Sara was still giggling as she helped Mick guide Len off the exam chair and back to his room. “Night, boys,” she said when she turned to leave. She took a moment to meet Len’s eyes and give him a very pointed look, before walking away as the doors hissed closed behind her.

“What was that about?” Mick asked as he helped Len settle onto his bed. He’d shedded his jacket and boots.

“Just something she said to me earlier…” Len looked up and met his eyes. “You’re going to stay here, right?”

“Course I am,” Mick said.

“I mean…  _ here _ .” Len indicated the bed.

“If you want me to…” Mick said hesitantly.

“I do. I really do.” Len eased himself over to make room for Mick.

So Mick discarded his extra layers and shoes as well and then settled into the bed beside Len. He tentatively reached out to wrap his arm around Len’s shoulders. He felt the other man sigh into the embrace. Without even meaning it, Len’s left side was facing up, so he reached out to take Mick’s forearm so they could line up their new soulmarks again. They both sighed in relief at the feeling. 

“Can we stay like this?”

“Sure thing… Though you know I’m gonna have to keep waking you.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean we have to move.”

“You’re right.” 

To be honest, Mick didn’t particularly want to let go of this feeling either. He’d lived for so long without a soulmark that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have one. Going back over his career with the Time Masters, he couldn’t believe the things he’d done, done to the team, to Len.

After he’d thought Len had drifted off, he suddenly spoke up quietly, “Hey, Mick? Did you ever take time off when you were Chronos to go talk to me in the past?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… 2013 or something.”

“No, I was only hunting you after you joined up with Hunter.”

Len frowned. “Strange.”

“What is it?”

“I just remembered something. Something that seemed out of place at the time. You asked me to meet you during our rough patch, and called me a hero. It was… out of character for you.” He closed his eyes and settled down again. “Don’t worry about it. It was probably nothing.”

Mick glanced down at him. He couldn’t remember doing that, but memories from that time were kind of hazy anyway since he was recovering from the burns. “Okay… Hey, Len…”

“Mmm?”

“I love you.”

Len smiled but didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah. I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! It's a happy ending after all! Though I couldn't resist that one last little punch in the gut. Cause there's no way I'm going anywhere near Destiny with this AU. There's even some heartbreak I don't want to write.
> 
> Sorry for all the dialog copy and pasting. I couldn't decided if I should summarize it for those of you, like me, who practically have these scenes memorized, or if I should write it out in case people don't. So I chose the latter.
> 
> So this is how I figure it, by destroying his own soulmark, Len actually gave them the chance to form a new bond. They just needed to touch to make it happen. Ta-da!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
